


Well, Shit

by ccbgb



Series: Faded Series [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Faded For Her, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 22:16:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3871714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccbgb/pseuds/ccbgb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Related to the story Faded For Her- Cassandra, the Sheriff of the University Police and Varric, a short and sarcastic English Professor, deal with their blossoming friendship and eventually relationship in the midst of Alana Lavellan's rise to power as University President. Things, of course, go terribly wrong as these two unlikely lovers deal with half-truths and persistent friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fooled Me Once

They had met long before either of them knew Alana.

There had been a riot, terrible- burning trash cans, smashed windows- the university had been on the map for a few days. Of course that left Cassandra, the university police sheriff, scrambling.

Their small police force did not have anything resembling riot gear, nor did she want any to begin with. Pressure from the city police came down hard on her to control the situation, but she refused to use harsh methods on kids. She may not have understood the rioting- from what she had gathered it had been a political rally gone wrong- but she would not arrest college students for being sucked into a mob mentality. She did her best to locate and fine those who had done any damage to the school but her real interest was who had incited it. That was the one person she would be _sure_ would pay for making that week her own personal hell.

Rumors circulated about the professors who had attended the rally. Many students refused to name names and with no charges to threaten them with, Cassandra was at a loss. Finally, one name came to light: Varric Tethras.

She had sent a few of her officers to pick him up under the specific command that he was not under arrest, but she wished to make him feel as if he had little choice. Her officers did not disappoint- into the station came a short, stocky man who wore a smirk of confidence, flanked by two men in uniform. Cassandra watched from her office as they led him down to the small interrogation room. The door closed behind the man and she stood, inhaling deeply. She would get all the information she could out of this man. She would persuade him that his tenure would be in danger.

As soon as she entered the room her confidence was shaken. Tethras sat leaning back in the wooden chair, completely unfazed by the circumstances. Under normal circumstances, people in the interrogation room were scared, shaken. Instead, Varric looked up and smiled as she came in, greeting her with an enthusiastic, “Sheriff!” It gave her pause.

“Mr. Tethras,” she greeted, making sure not to address him as ‘professor’. If she could prove he helped incite the riot, he would not be professor for long.

“A pleasure,” he said, “Though, perhaps not, under the circumstances.”

Cassandra sat, back straight, face unmoved by his nonchalance. She flipped through the report she had in her hand, looking for the specific page that the student’s testimonial insinuated Tethras’s presence at the riot.

“I don’t suppose I’m here for a cordial visit,” the man continued, “But to be honest, Sheriff, I don’t know what else I could _possibly_ be here for.”

Cassandra quickly checked the camera in the corner of the room. The red light was blinking. As her gaze flicked back to Tethras, she noticed he had followed her gaze and was now looking at the camera, his confident smirk fading. _Good_ , she thought, _He should be nervous._

“Please state your name and position,” she said, pen in her hand, a legal bound yellow notepad beside her.

“Varric Tethras, Professor of English. I specialize in Creative Writing and Literary Classics.” Cassandra continued looking at him, pen unmoving. “But you already knew that.”

“How long have you been working at the university?”

“Forty years.”

Cassandra’s brow furrowed. The man was barely thirty, according to his records.

“Ah, that’s what I thought,” the English professor said, “You know these answers already. Why bother then, Sheriff? Am I being detained?”

“Do not test me, Mr. Tethras,” Cassandra said, her grip on her pen tight enough to whiten her knuckles.

What was left of Varric’s smirk dissipated quickly. “Seven years.”

“What were you doing on April 28th of this year?”

Understanding seemed to dawn on the man’s face before it was quickly hidden under a new and improved smirk. “So _that’s_ what this is about! The riot!”

Cassandra drew a quick “k” on the notepad followed by a “a?” Varric glanced down at the letters, his mask refusing to crack.

“Did you attend this riot?”

Varric raised an eyebrow. “You know the answer to that one too, don’t you?”

“And if I said I didn’t?”

“You’d be lying.”

They stared each other down, Cassandra doing her best to remain cool for the camera. No doubt any younger recruits were standing behind the two-way mirror, taking notes. She could not afford to give into this man’s instigatory tactics.

Varric was the first to break eye contact. “Fine, you got me Sheriff. Yeah, I was at the rally that started the riot but I’m really not as important to the inciting of it as you seem to think.”

“Do you know a student by the name of Anderson Smith?”

“Yeah,” Varric sighed, “He’s one of my students.”

Cassandra began writing down different shorthand notes to herself about his demeanor and his language usage.

“Many seem to agree that he was the one to first incite violence and that you were in the vicinity. Others report that Anderson and one by the name of Marian Hawke are both your students and good friends.”

“Now wait, Sheriff-“

“As if that weren’t already very close to a breach of education ethics, Mr. Tethras, is implicating that you may be involved in some way with the student who is responsible for beginning the riot that led to thousands of dollars of damage to the school and-“

“Now wait a minute, Sheriff!”

Cassandra stopped, infuriated by the interruption.

“They may be my students, and yes, even friends, and I know how that looks,” he said, “But you need to hear the whole story.”

Cassandra threw the report over her shoulder and pointed the pen in her hand directly in Varric’s face. “Very well,” she obliged, teeth grinding, “But I want every single detail.”

The interrogation had lasted well over three hours. Cassandra scribbled away on her notepad and the English teacher weaved a tale of a young civil rights movement being born across the country and, indirectly, through the university. The story was so rich, Varric’s voice the voice of a storyteller, that Cassandra couldn’t help but be entranced. When the man said his last, her page was covered in shorthand, her brain filled with images of the intense romance between Anderson and Marian, their burning need for justice overwhelming everything they touched.

Perhaps it was three-hour session that left her brain muddled, or perhaps it was the images of the romantic two young revolutionaries and their group of friends, but she let Varric go. When she had regained herself she went to go find and potentially arrest Anderson and Marian only to find they had dropped out and disappeared. Rage blinded her- she did not see until weeks later that if she had not let Varric go, they would not have had time to duck out from under her jurisdiction. When the city police asked for a final report she had simply stated that there had been too many contributing factors to place the blame on one or two students.

The situation had brought Cassandra closer to the higher ups, leading her to Alana. It wasn’t until three years later, though, did Alana’s accident occur and she was brought face to face with Varric Tethras once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I was going to do it, but I also swore that I'd wait until Faded was over.   
> Well...  
> Shit.


	2. Helping Hand

Realization didn’t hit until they were both sitting outside Alana’s hospital room, Varric sitting beside her shirtless.

Cassandra had driven over in her official car, following the ambulance as close as she could. She sat, wringing her hands and chewing at her bottom lip. When the door had opened and a deep voice had asked a nurse she had barely registered it. All she could think was that her best friend was being examined just behind that door and that if that bystander had not stepped in she would be-

She dared not think of it. Alana was not yet out of danger.

Even when the shirtless man sat beside her, her mind did not wander. She stared at the door, shadows of doctors moving behind the pulled blinds of the hospital room.

“Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here, Sheriff.”

Cassandra grunted, giving a cursory glance towards the voice. When a bare, hairy chest greeted her vision, she did a double take. Beside her sat a familiar face, a soft smile replacing the smirk she remembered.

“Been a while, huh?”

“Why are you half-naked?” was the only thing she could think to say.

Varric laughed and Cassandra blushed, half in anger, half in embarrassment. The man pulled a wrinkled shirt out of his pack. “Only had one shirt on me,” he said, unfolding the shirt. A brown stain had soaked through the chest of the button up and it clicked. Her stomach rolled.

Cassandra looked away, focusing on Alana’s door once more. She didn’t have time or the emotional capacity to pay attention to a man that had tricked her so long ago, much less carry the anger into the present. Yet he seemed insistent on talking.

“Didn’t know you cared so much for our high and mighty Madame President. Or is this just part of your duty to sit and worry?”

Cassandra scowled, refusing to look in Varric’s direction. “She is a close friend. I would appreciate the jokes be held to a minimum while her status is still unknown.”

“Fair enough. Just trying to be friendly.”

That touched a nerve. “Friendly?” she scoffed, “Friendly is not the word I would chose to describe you, Mr. Tethras. More like ‘liar’ or ‘underhanded’.”

Air hissed beside her as Varric pretended to be wounded by her words. “Sheriff, what on earth did I ever do to incur your wrath?”

“You know very well what you did.”

“I’m afraid I must plead ignorance. I gave you a _plethora_ of information, if I remember correctly. More than you asked for. I thought I did you a favor!”

Cassandra sat up, facing Varric, teeth bared.

“A favor?” she hissed, “You let those two get away and kept me entranced for three hours telling me _fiction_.”

Varric raised an eyebrow. “Entranced?”

Cassandra scoffed, “Ugh,” and turned back to watching the door. They sat in relative silence, nurses passing, voices paging doctors over the intercom. Her foot tapped subconsciously, index fingers tapping against her opposite hands as they twisted. It had been nearly fifteen minutes since Alana had arrived. They couldn’t keep her waiting for news much longer before she pulled the police card.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine, Sheriff.”

Varric’s voice was as soft as the hand on her shoulder. Had the situation been any different she would have shrugged him off and threatened to cut the hand off. As it was, she could not bring herself to be mad. She was too tired. His hand stayed, comfortably warm on her uniform.

“Why are _you_ here, Mr. Tethras?” she asked without malice.

His voice remained soft, a low rumble beside her, “Alana is also a friend of mine. Met her at my favorite deli.”

Cassandra nodded absently, eyes still on the door. The shadows behind the windows all seemed to coalesce. She stood as the door opened and the hand on her shoulder slipped and fell away. Two doctors emerged and Cassandra walked up to them before they could close the door.

“How is she?” Cassandra blurted, louder than the rest of the hushed whispers in the waiting room.

“Can I ask your relation to Ms. Lavellan?” one doctor asked.

Cassandra felt heat rise to her cheeks. She was ready to explode, hand already on her baton. If this man did not tell her-

A hand on her back surprised her. Varric was beside her, shirtless, smiling.

“Doctors, this is Sheriff Pentaghast of the University Police. She was a witness to the crime as well as Ms. Lavellan’s personal friend. As Ms. Lavellan has no family currently available, Sheriff Pentaghast is the most qualified here to check up on Ms. Lavellan.”

The doctors looked at each other and nodded.

“Thanks you, sirs,” Varric finished. The hand on Cassandra’s back disappeared and Varric was heading back to his chair. Cassandra watched him go, trying to understand the man but before she could get a handle on his gait, the doctors spoke.

“Ms. Lavellan is stable and will heal. We’ll be able to release her tomorrow morning. She’s had some whiplash and of course the cut on her head but no internal injuries. If anything begins hurting in the next few days, though, please send her back.”

“Of course,” Cassandra said, “Thank you.”

The doctors took their leave and Cassandra made her way slowly back to her seat. Varric smiled at her, scratching his abundant chest hair.

“Madame President ready for action?” he asked.

“She’ll be released tomorrow morning. No internal injuries. Whiplash and the cut on her head, nothing else.”

“Well, I’m sure her Savior’s happy!” he said, standing, “A pleasure seeing you again, Sheriff. Have a nice night.”

Varric began walking away. Cassandra’s anger forgotten for a moment, she called his name. He turned.

“Don’t call me Sheriff unless you plan on being arrested,” she said gruffly.

Varric smirked. “You’re welcome, _Cassandra_.”

Cassandra frowned as the English professor opened the door to the stairs and disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we go  
> Obviously this work is going to be shorter than Faded.


	3. Lunch

Not more than a week later, Cassandra found herself invited to lunch.

“Come on, Cassandra,” Alana had insisted, “We haven’t gone to lunch in ages!”

“There’s more to it than that, I think.”

Alana had hesitated on the phone. “Well, yes.”

“The man who saved you?”

“How did you- wait, I don’t want to know.”

“Alana, you don’t call or visit for _three days_ after getting out of the hospital. You think I wouldn’t worry?”

“You’re right. I’m an ass. Sorry, Cass.”

Cassandra had looked about her surroundings before she allowed a small smile to turn her lips. “It’s alright, Alana. Where are we going for lunch?”

“The Deli. It’s right across from the quad.”

“The man who saved you will be there?”

“Yeah. I want your opinion.”

“Then you shall have it.”

At the time Cassandra had been excited and curious. It was as if one of her favorite books was playing out before her eyes: a dangerous accident, a mysterious Good Samaritan pulling the heroine from the wreckage, a budding romance. She could not afford to _not_ see it happen to her best friend. What she had not expected, however, was _him_.

She walked into the Deli, catching sight of Alana. At the table beside her was the Good Samaritan and-

_Varric_.

Cassandra scowled. She could not decide what to feel about that man. Sure, he professed to be Alana’s friend and helped during the car accident but she could not shake the overwhelming resentment she harbored from three years prior.

“Oh, Cassandra!” Alana called, waving her over, “Come over and let me introduce you!”

Cassandra obliged, doing her best to wipe the scowl off of her face. She dared not meet the English professor’s eye for fear of it returning. Alana beckoned to the open seat beside her and Cassandra sat, looking up at the man who had saved Alana.

“Cassandra, I’d like you to meet Professor Solas of the History department,” Alana said as Solas stretched out his hand in greeting, “Solas, this is Sheriff Cassandra Pentaghast of the University Police.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Sheriff,” Solas said, his smile slight and barely genuine.

“And you, Professor,” she responded stiffly. She hated introductions.

“Better watch yourself, Samaritan,” Varric chimed in from across the table, “The Sheriff is as angry as she always looks.”

Up until this point, Cassandra had forced herself to ignore the man sitting across from her. It had been easy enough as he had been _quiet_. Why wasn’t she surprised that the moment he opened his mouth he struck a nerve?

She opened her mouth to retaliate, finally turning to face Varric, staring him down. The smirk she had always hated was back in full force. A hand clasped her arm, however, and Cassandra closed her mouth.

“I’m guessing the two of you have met?” Alana asked.

“Unfortunately,” Cassandra spat.

“Ah, our food is ready,” Solas said, standing, “Alana, care to help me carry it?”

Alana nodded quickly, patting Cassandra’s shoulder as she stood. “Play nice,” she whispered as she passed.

Left at the table alone, Cassandra took to looking out the window. She dared not look at the English professor’s face. They sat in silence for a few moments, uncomfortable.

“Listen, Sheriff,” the man said from across the table, “Let’s start over.”

Cassandra maintained her position, refusing to look at him. “And where shall we start from? Three minutes ago? Three days ago? Three years ago?”

Varric sighed and Cassandra suddenly felt embarrassed. She was being stubborn, as always, and perhaps too uptight. She would never admit it, though, and certainly not to him.

“Just, uh, just play along with me here.”

Cassandra turned finally to see Varric’s hand outstretched towards her.

“I’m Varric Tethras. English Professor.”

She searched his face for some indication of a joke but instead found weary sincerity. With a cautious hand, she took his.

“Cassandra Pentaghast. Sheriff.”

His hand enveloped hers as he shook it once. His skin was rough and warm. She took her hand back after the first shake.

“A pleasure, Sheriff,” he said. His lips turned up slightly, not quite the smirk she detested, but something sincere and welcoming. She could not find it within herself to reciprocate but nodded instead.

“Oh look, I knew you two would play nice if I left,” Alana said, coming back around with food. “Oh, Cass, I got you a sandwich I think you’ll like, here.”

Cassandra thanked her and lunch proceeded amiably. She did not talk much- talking was not her strong point. Instead she listened and observed, no doubt what Alana wanted her to do. With the distraction of despising Varric placated for the moment, she found herself able to pick up on the overwhelming aura of lust emitting from both Alana and the History Professor. If those two did not go out within the week, Cassandra would turn in her badge.

As they were cleaning the table, Alana mentioned she’d be walking back with Solas. Both Cassandra and Varric acquiesced and allowed them to go ahead of them. Alana gave Cassandra the look she knew all too well: Call Me Later Or Else. The two left the deli, leaving her and Varric alone to pick up the remains of their lunch.

They were both silent at first, awkward and unsure of what could and couldn’t be said. The crinkling of the wax paper seemed to echo in the empty deli.

“So,” Varric finally said, “Should we place bets on how long _that_ one’s gonna take?”

“I give it a week,” Cassandra said, not looking up from picking up her trash.

“I give it two days, tops. How much?”

“Excuse me?”

“How much do you want to bet on this?”

“I hardly think that’s appropriate. Not to mention gambling outside of-“

Varric looked up and caught her eye. “Afraid you’re going to lose?”

“Absolutely not!”

“How’s about twenty bucks?”

She pursed her lips, her grip on the remains of her sandwich growing tighter.

“Whoever is closest by number of days, wins,” he promised, “If there’s a tie we’ll go by hours.”

“Deal.”

Varric smiled. “See, I knew you weren’t so bad.”

Cassandra frowned and they left the deli together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh you cuties


	4. Bets

“I heard it was _on school grounds_.”

“Absolutely not. You think I would have let that go?”

“Come on, Sheriff, don’t leave me hanging.”

“They didn’t, really.”

“So I won the bet?”

“No.”

“But they _almost_ -“

“Shh! Do you want the whole restaurant to hear you?”

Cassandra had arrived early to the Deli for lunch. Varric had already been waiting when she arrived, eager to hear what Cassandra had learned about the weekend that Solas had spent at Alana’s.

“Honestly,” Cassandra whispered, “They have not engaged in any activity of the sort as Alana is confined to the back brace. That’s all I know and you have not yet won your bet.”

“Now that’s not fair, Sheriff, we never bet on _what_ would happen.”

“And whose fault might that be? I was under the assumption we were speaking about the overwhelming sexual tension that would soon snap. If you were speaking about them simply going out, I would have lost the bet immediately as they’ve been going out to lunch every day.”

“Fine,” Varric conceded, “You win. When does she get her back brace off?”

Cassandra allowed a smug smile to grace her features. Varric’s eyes widened in impressed disbelief.

“You cheated me, I don’t believe it. _You knew_.”

“She has an appointment on Friday to have the brace removed.”

“ _You bet against me and knew when the brace would come off.”_

Cassandra took a sip of the lemonade in front of her. “You should not be surprised, Varric. I do not make bets I cannot win.”

“I’m not even mad,” he admitted, “I’m impressed. Who knew Cassandra Pentaghast could lie through her teeth?”

“Who knew that the famed trickster, Varric Tethras, could be fooled so easily?”

“Here,” Varric said, rummaging through his pants pockets, “I never thought I’d say this but you deserve this money.”

Cassandra held up a hand to stop him. “I have not won yet. I wish to abide by the rules still.”

“Abide by the- _Cassandra_ , you already cheated, why follow the rules?”

“I did not cheat, Varric. I did not break the rules. I withheld information that I did not see as necessary to reveal to you at the time. As such, I am going to win the bet fairly. I do not see a need to stop the game just because I know I will win.”

Varric seemed taken aback. Cassandra sipped her lemonade once more, looking out the window for Alana. No doubt she would arrive soon.

“Alright, Sheriff, I’ll wait to give you your ill-gotten gains, though I don’t see how it matters at this point.”

“Humor me.”

Cassandra sat up straighter and their conversation halted. She saw Varric look from her to the window before she straightened up as well. Alana and Solas had arrived and the time for betting and gossip was over.

Alana and Solas seemed even more sexually frustrated, if it were possible. Alana laughed too hard at Varric’s jokes and Solas’s stiffness in his chair did him no favors. Varric kept glancing back at Cassandra, eyebrows raised and Cassandra would nod, eyes wide. Alana and Solas were so distracted by each other that neither noticed the silent conversation happening between Varric and Cassandra. Cassandra found that as time went on she relaxed herself around the English professor more and more. Any leftover hatred had dispersed in the camaraderie she had found in Varric in third and fourth wheeling Alana’s dates.

When Alana and Solas had finally left, Cassandra walked in the quad beside Varric. They were silent, aware of how close they still were to their friend. When they safely out of earshot of anyone who could have overheard, Varric finally let loose.

“Sheriff, if I hadn’t seen that I might not have believed you when they said they didn’t have sex this weekend,” the man laughed, almost doubled over. “They both look ready to explode.”

Cassandra smiled. “I will admit that that was certainly... _uncomfortable._ ”

“No kidding, it was like being stuck between a tom and a cat in heat! Why on earth are they taking so long, back brace or no back brace?”

“They’re both oblivious.”

Varric stopped laughing, looking up at her. Cassandra became suddenly uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny.

“They’re both so wrapped up in worrying about what the other thinks they can’t see clearly. Did you see how Solas wouldn’t so much as touch her hand? He’s scared that whatever may have happened this weekend may only have been a product of alcohol. She’s worried about the same thing as well as being embarrassed about the back brace.”

Varric shook his head. “You continue to surprise me, Sheriff.”

“That’s just it, I’m a Sheriff. It’s my job to notice things.”

“Like when you’re making a bet against a man you don’t like, eh?”

Cassandra frowned, turning towards the English professor. “You’re really upset about that?”

“Which, the bet or the fact that you don’t like me?”

Varric stared up at her, an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed. Cassandra felt heat rush to her face in embarrassment and guilt.

“If you’d like I can forfeit the bet-“

“That’s not what I asked, Sheriff.”

“Of course you are, the other bit is just foolishness, as if I would-“

“What?”

“I do not- I have no-“

Varric raised his hands in a signal for her to stop. Cassandra looked down, awkward and flustered.

“I get it, Sheriff. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. You have a good day, I’ll see you later,” he said, walking away.

“Get what? What’s fine?” she called after him.

Varric stopped and turned around. His smirk was back. “If you still don’t like me, that’s fine.”

“I don’t!”

Varric raised an eyebrow.

“I mean,” she said, rubbing her forehead, “I don’t not like you, anymore.”

“Gosh, I’m glad you don’t teach English.”

Cassandra barred her teeth in frustration. “I just-“

“I get what you mean, Sheriff,” he said, the smirk returning to a smile, “Seeya later.”

Cassandra groaned in frustration as he walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dont not like you too you huge frickin nerds


End file.
